On Kindles and E-Books

As an avid reader, getting my first Kindle as a gift was the best thing that ever happened to me.  While there are still some books that I must own as physical copies (anything by Neal Stephenson, Blizzard related stuff, Chuck Palahniuk, and things that will complete already started collections that I feel I must finish), I really do like the fact that there are a seemingly endless amount of books for free to dirt cheap to pick up on the Amazon store.  From a lot of the classics that I used to have but went missing to stuff that I just plain missed are up for free.  While familiar with his works for a long time, I'll admit that until earlier this year, I've never read any of H.P. Lovecraft.  I was able to fix this

On the other side of fame, there are a ton of undiscovered genre writers that are waiting to be read, and often will have their first book or two up for free, hoping that you'll like it enough to pick up the follow ups for a few bucks here and there.  I've read probably close to 300 or so of these indie published e-books in the last two years, and a good chunk of them were follow ups to fantasy or sci-fi novels that I felt were easily worth a couple of dollars.  Libraries around also offer free e-books with a library card now too.  This is only a good thing.  Guys like Alex Ziebart (pulpy fantasy), Mark Tufo (smart ass pulpy horror), Matt Rossi (amazingly detailed, well thought out speculative history), Christian Cantrell (wrote a series of short, tight, fast paced current to futuristic 'where we go as humans' sort of sci-fi), and so many more are fantastic writers and really need more exposure.  Maybe I'll do a couple of posts reviewing Kindle books.

Random Thoughts

So I'm terrible at updating. That's a thing, it happens.  Life got in the way huge.  Moved a few states away, took a new job, getting married in less than a month, got another baby on the way.  These things happen.  On to random, totally non-sequitur thoughts!

First up:  I saw a school bus pulled over by the cops on my way home from work today. I wonder what happened? Were the police looking for a missing kid? Did the cop see some jackass pass the stopped school bus while it was dropping off kids and get a statement from the bus driver? Was it really a mobile meth lab? The potential possibilities are endless!

 Second:  A true story that always makes me die a little on the inside.  Once I was outside expo at a restaurant. This is the guy who sits in the window and takes the food as it comes out and trays it up for the servers to run out to the tables. My printer ran out of paper, so instead of just writing the tables numbers on post it notes or something, I decided I hated the waitstaff and wrote basic middle school math equations that came out to have the table numbers as answers. This confused and angered some of them at first. So I simplified it to basic elementary school math. It still didn't help.

Random thought the third:  I'm sort of excited to see how my son reacts to Star Wars when he gets a little older.  I remember watching the Original Trilogy when I was just a little older than he is now over and over and over and over and oh my God I just realized I did the same thing every little girl has done with Frozen since it came out on DVD except with something way cooler on a bootlegged VHS tape.  Episode 7 is just a few months away!

Untitled Diary - Prologue

Every day when I open my eyes, part of me wishes I didn't. I suppose that's par for the course. Ever since the world ended, things have been a little depressing. Sometimes, I wonder how exactly I've managed to not go crazy yet. Of course, I'm talking to myself right now, trying to find the right words, so maybe I already have and just sort of accepted it a long time ago. I mean, hell, I haven't seen another person in... weeks? Months? I'm not even entirely sure when it is now.

I've got a handful of batteries left and I found one of those voice recorders you used to always see those asshole personal assistants on TV using. Maybe if I talk this out, I can get a hold of some paper later and put it onto something tangible.

Tangible.

Kind of an odd concept these days. The only thing anyone really has to call their own are just nightmares, psychological disorders, and in my case, a wicked cool scar or three. If you're lucky, and I am, a couple of guns and maybe some water. Damn, now I'm thirsty. Where's the off switch for this thing? Oh, there it is.

All right, I'm back. What was I talking about? Tangibility. I guess I can be called one of the lucky ones. I've got a couple of things people would consider worth fighting for. The trick these days though, is to travel light, so I don't have a whole lot. A change of clothes, a handful of bullets, a fairly decent light disaster kit. Of course, I'm pretty sure my definition of 'light disaster' is a hell of a lot different than it was before all this started.

OK, wait, I'm getting ahead of myself again. The whole point of this was to get my story out. Maybe someday, someone in society, if there is one by then, will find it and maybe learn a thing or two. So maybe I should go back a little and start from the beginning. Or maybe I should just give up and do what six and a half billion people did a couple of years ago and just drop dead. Some days, I wish I would have back then.

Hell, most days I do.

I almost found a real legit reason to keep going a time or two. Shame those people didn't share my enthusiasm. But I'll get to them later. If I'm gonna tell this, I'm gonna try to tell it right. In the right order, chronologically, so things make sense in case anyone hears this later. Look at me, trying to be considerate for someone or something that may or may not exist at some point in the future that may or may not still be here.

Nah, wait, I'm pretty sure the future will still be around. I'm just being overly dramatic. The question is, will there be anyone or anything left?

Dammit, I'm getting off topic again. All I'm doing is wasting the batteries, and I don't know how long they'll last. That's the problem with 'borrowed' goods. I should just take a few minutes to get my thoughts together and then get on with my story.

Letters To People I May Or May Not Know

Dear Bonnie Tyler; I'm sorry that you sounded awesome 30 years ago, and don't nearly as much nowadays. Not that you're not talented or awesome now, just that, ya know... Everything you've done in the last 4 years (all remakes of the same song, that happens to be my favorite song of yours) kinda has that whole 'sounds like you did 3 packs a day for 40 years' when you sing deal happening. Sorry.

Dear Lady Gaga; Sorry you're not as talented as Madonna was 25 years ago, even if you're trying to sound *just like her*. You're still irritatingly catchy if it makes you feel any better. And 'Bad Romance' has done wonders for my Rock Band 3 achievement whoring with it's incredibly simplistic vocals. This isn't a compliment.

Dear Bestie; Sorry that you keep kicking my ass to write something new for this spot. I've been doing a lot of writing. Just none of it for *here*.

Dear New (being a relative term) Upstairs Neighbors; When I long for the days where the abusive couple were quieter and more predictable than you were, then you're DOING IT WRONG. This is why its 330 AM and I'm blasting rap music in your general direction. Please either send your kids to school or invest in shackles and/or muzzles.

Dear Canada; I feel like my personal space has been kind of invaded, but my willingness to be the bigger person and avoid confrontation is over. I hope you're around on the next karaoke night that I'm sufficiently intoxicated. I kinda need one and the other to happen together so I can convey the awesome idea I had earlier tonight to let you know how I feel. Alternately, you can find a new goddamn bar to hang out at. It's not like there aren't 17 identical ones that are as much of a shit hole as the one I hang out in.

Dear Everyone I Know Who's From Canada Who Isn't The Intended Recipient Of The Last Letter; Ignore that, it wasn't for you. Obviously. All two of you.

Dear Allie; I know you're busy doing important stuff like like going to the motherfucking bank like an adult, but if you updated more often, I'd send you warm psychic fuzzies.

Dear Protomen, LiGHTs, and Gavin DeGraw; RB3 tracks need to happen plox kthx bai. And I wouldn't turn down a tour date in Fredericksburg or Stafford either. <3

Dear Sacco; Your sad clown otter PAX East pic has no sway over me. It is in no way totally amusing and deserves a reference. I'm obviously lying.

Dear End of June Facebook Status; I haven't forgotten about you and the epic cockblocking you promised to share. It'll happen some day. Maybe.

Dear Random Kid; I know it's in your nature to be inquisitive, and I know since you're an American your parents probably didn't teach you any Goddamn manners, but the next time one of you asks why I'm wearing an eye patch, I'm going to tell you with no humor at all in my voice, "There is no Santa Claus, and your parents divorce really *was* your fault."

Dear DC; You know that rule we have that says RL > WoW? That applies to the GL too, sadly. Sorry I been neglecting y'all lately. Also, I know the music stream in Vent is still broken. I'll fix it someday soon. Ish. Maybe.

Dear Local City Police Officer; Thanks for applying logic and saving my ass from the bored Sheriff tonight. You rock.

Sincerely, Ptak

Burnout!

Ever get to a point where you just feel burnt out in every single aspect of your life? Life at home, life at work, life with your friends, family, loved ones? And it's not necessarily anything they've done, just common, run of the mill, 'need a break from it all for a while' burnout?

This is where I am right now.

If it were just one or even two parts of my life, I could deal. Just take a little break from that area, focus on something else, come back in a few days or weeks refreshed and ready to tackle things with a new perspective. But alas, it's not just one or two parts of my life. It's every. Single. One.

And this need of a break is even extending to things that I'm not even actively doing. I've got a pile of unread books sitting around that I've been putting off. Movies, a small handful of games, TV shows, backlogged. I've got half a dozen creative projects that I've been intending to start, false starting, started and shelved... Sometimes, I have the time and just don't want to get into it, and other times, it's all I wanna do but I'm stuck doing anything else. It's maddening, really.

But its the big areas that I'm more concerned with.

Work burnout, however, gets a lot more worrisome. It makes you sloppy, less professional, and more willing to take chances just because you really don't give a fuck. And of course, I work in one of the more upscale, professional types of places in the casual dining hospitality industry, and it's been starting to show that I'm cracking a little under the surface. This is something that I really need to put the brakes on now, before I really screw up and get an unwanted kind of vacation. The kind that involves making a full time job out of finding a full time job.

Home burnout, is probably the least affecting one I have right now. Things around the house are fairly stable and for the most part, relaxed. There have been a few bumps along the way, but for the most part, everything lately has been getting a lot more manageable. Would a change of scenery be nice? Absolutely. Will it kill me to wait a few more months? Not right now.

Social burnout, this can get linked to two separate social circles.

My drinking circle, I've really cut back on the last few weeks, because of all the extra work I've been having to do. Of course, in my line of work, working more makes that end of shift beer sound that much better, but I've been trying to cut back on spending, and drinking out is the first thing to go. This'll change in a few weeks when a night or two out becomes a bit more affordable. It's been kind of nice not getting into a lot of the drama that comes out of these though, so there's another bonus.

My geeking circle, we've been getting burnt out on fast moving deadlines for goals we haven't been able to hit just yet, and everyone involved has been feeling the strain. Some people have already started taking the time off to recover, which puts the rest of us at a disadvantage, because we can't do things without them, which causes us to get more frustrated, which causes more burnout related breaks, which just becomes cyclic. There's other things involved here as well, which I have to take a bit more shit for since I'm in something of a leadership position in some aspects of things. This, likely, will become another post topic later on.

That odd center of the Venn Diagram of my primary social circles, ironically, is totally stress and drama free right now, thankfully.

So what can I do? I'm already planning a vacation early next month, which should help immensely with the work, home, and drinking circles. Said vacation corresponds with some things relating to my geeking circle, which deadlines hit or not, won't matter because 99% of our current projects will get scrapped and we'll be into something totally new. And maybe while I'm on this vacation, I'll figure out exactly how much juggling I really need or want to do, and come back with a few less plates in the air.

After all, everyone prefers 'moderately relaxed, smart assed because it's funny and I don't really mean it' Me more than 'rediculously stressed, extremely angry, purposefully mean so you'll leave me the hell alone' Me. I know I prefer the first one.

My Upstairs Neighbor Was Evicted...

... two months ago. I've been kinda busy, so writing this up took me longer than usual.

An actual conversation my upstairs neighbor and I had one morning as I was leaving the house for work. I knew what had happened, since I was up all damn night listening to the sounds of glass breaking, her screaming half in pain, mostly in rage, him screaming back at her, and the two of them throwing each other into objects of various sizes. Oh, and at the cops for the latter half of the incident.

Me: "Jesus, you look like you got mauled by a bear. What the hell happened to you?"
Her: "...I fell down some stairs."
Me: "...Were the stairs wielding like, a bat with razors in it?"
Her: "Something like that."
Me: "We'll, remind me not to piss of the stairs next time they ask me if I'm sure I don't want to pop upstairs for a quality tattoo job in your bathroom. A tactful decline would be the way to go, yeah?"

This was the point she turned red and walked downstairs to the laundry room. I never spoke to her again after that.

This isn't going to be an easy topic to write about. It probably won't be my usual snarky, smart assed, sorta darkly funny kinda thing. I kinda feel like I need to get it out, but at the same time, it's not really something I can make jokes about.

So a few months ago I moved into a new apartment. It's actually a pretty nice place, and for the most part, it's been pretty quiet. There was really only one kinda speed bump there. We had some upstairs neighbors who liked to fight.

Pretty much nightly, the woman in the upstairs apartment would get the shit kicked out of her. Her boyfriend, a stay at home unemployed guy, would get on her case and eventually start throwing punches, dishes, her, whatever was handy. It got pretty loud and noisy. Couple of times, I called the cops. My roommate called the cops. Neighbors called the cops. They'd come out, he'd be gone or hiding somewhere in the apartment. All the cops saw was just a beat up woman and her kids. After a while, it stopped being domestic violence calls, and just noise complaints, because there wasn't really a second 'domestic partner' that they could catch.

Second month in, it literally became a nightly thing, but a strange thing started happening. The woman started screaming at the cops, threatening to fight with them, calling lawsuits, police harassment, illegal searches, the whole nine. Couple of times she was the one taken away, and the kids were taken wherever kids go in these situations. Within a few days, though, the couple and the kids would always end up back at home, going at it just as viciously at 3 in the morning when the woman came home from work. They kept breaking up, breaking things, and breaking each other (resulting in more than one cast, hospital visit for stitches, splints, and black eyes).

Eventually, I just stopped calling the cops. The system obviously wasn't working for these two. So I just started complaining to the apartment manager about the noise. I wasn't the only one. The woman and her kids ended up getting evicted two weeks after she finally threw him out for good. Like, tossed all his shit onto the side of the street and changed the locks kind of for good. Like, he disappeared and no one who lived in the building here heard or saw him after that night for good. Hell, he didn't even pick up his crap, the groundskeeper just threw it all away.

Flash forward a few weeks, I'm at the office paying my rent, talking to the apartment manager about the whole thing. Turns out, for as much damage as the woman took from her ex, she gave back better than she got. By a very large factor. Part of the reason he couldn't find a job was because he was usually too injured to actually go look for one. Just not too injured to, ya know, smack his girlfriend around. That and he was kind of lazy, and keeping his job search narrowly confined to one tattoo parlor that fired him a few months before (for missing work, for being in lockup, for beating his girlfriend).

So, after about the 8th or 9th call to the cops that resulted in pretty much nothing happening, why continue to bother? These two were obviously made for each other. Sure, sucks for the kids, but how many times should I have kept trying to help people that were clearly beyond saving and willing to take their loved ones down with them?

So, am I an asshole for just being happy that I can finally sleep at night without all that noise? Not that I actually sleep at night, but ya know, someday I might want to. Maybe. Aw, who am I kidding? Everyone knows that sleeping is for when that bright burning eye hurting thing is up in the sky.

I wonder what my new neighbors will be like. Gotta be better than the last ones.

Calling yourself out

So, most of my drinking friends don't know exactly how geeky I am. I don't really hide it, it just never comes up. So when I get asked, 'Do you have any dice?' and my initial reaction is to reply with, 'How many sided?', then yeah, cat's out of the bag.